MR. WRONG
By Valerie Byron
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination, or are used fictiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved
Copyright c. 2010 by Valerie Byron Fee
Smashwords edition
The phone rang at 8 am, waking me from a sound sleep.
“Hi, sexy baby” came the deep, thrilling tones from the man on the other end of the line.
I stretched out, smiling, loving the sound of intimacy and suggestion in his voice.
“I love you, baby,” he went on.
“I think about you day and night, and can’t wait to see you.”
Jerry and I had been communicating by telephone and emails for over a month. We’d met on-line and although he lived in Denver, miles away from Los Angeles, we felt that it was a manageable relationship and could possibly lead to permanence. I was 65 years of age, and quite nervous about resuming the dating game. Jerry was 63, but seemed to have a youthful attitude, and didn't care that I was a little older.
I was a newbie at Internet dating, a forum designed for much younger women. Finding someone close to my age, who was attractive and fit, had not been easy. When I found Jerry, his amorous telephone attentions stirred me deeply, and I was yearning for more.
He called me several times a day, and I loved hearing his voice. He made me feel as if I were the most important woman in the world. We seemed to get along perfectly, except for our political views. He was a die-hard Democrat, whereas I am more conservative. We had had a few hearty debates over the phone about his politics, some even leading to tears on my part.
“Oh well”, I thought, you can’t have everything. “Maybe I can learn something from him.”
“So when are you coming?” he asked.
“I can be there this weekend – my son gave me a free pass, so I’ll arrive on Friday afternoon.”
“I can’t wait, baby” he said softly. “I’m dying to see you in person.”
I wondered to myself if what I was doing was crazy. I had been married for over thirty years and my husband had left me several years before. I had tried to cope on my own, but loneliness and a desire for intimacy had led me to a matchmaking service. I’d met a few men and had several dates, but none of them were willing to commit to a relationship, until I “met” Jerry. He seemed to feel I was “the one” and showered me with attention on a daily basis. His seductive words roped me in, and I failed to heed the warnings of my friends.
"Please be careful," warned my cousin. "You don't know who is out there."
"He could be a serial killer," voiced another anxious friend. "Please don't leave to go see someone you have never met before," urged my brother.
I poo-poohed all their cautionary words, certain that I had found the man of my dreams. Nothing was going to stop me from boarding the plane and meeting Mr. Wonderful.
* * *
Friday finally arrived and I managed to find a seat on the plane at LAX. Traveling stand-by is always stressful, but since my son works for the airline, I was able to obtain a pass.
It was a two-hour flight to Denver and as the plane swooped down to land, my stomach dipped in anxiety.
“Please, God, make him attractive,” I begged. His picture had been fuzzy on the dating site, and although he had sent me newer photos, they showed a man who was somewhat overweight. Jerry had assured me he had been dieting and exercising faithfully for the past six months, and had dropped several sizes. He phoned regularly, boasting of the runs he had taken up and down Red Rock, and reporting that his belt size was shrinking rapidly. I was expecting to meet a burly but fit man and although his photos showed him to look like a pleasant teddy bear, I felt I could live with that. I just wanted a happy, pleasant and loving man, nothing more.
The plane finally started its descent, and I reapplied my lipstick. Spritzing on my favorite scent, I grabbed my overnight bag and minutes later left the plane.
As I walked through the unfamiliar terminal, I looked around, hoping to see someone who resembled the photos I had been gazing at for the past few months. There was a line of people waiting at the Arrivals gate, and there he was, at the very end of the line. My heart sank. He was obese and quite unattractive. My first instinct was to run back to the plane and go home, but he had seen me.
I walked up to him and he gave me an awkward hug. His breath smelled and I shrank away in distaste. I looked up to see a large, florid face, with two chins leading into a rather large neck.